


Hoppípolla (jumping into puddles)

by Reinamy



Series: Hoppípolla [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hikaru no Go
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bromance, Coming of Age, Crossover, Dimension Travel, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Female Harry Potter, First Love, Friendship, Gen, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 08:57:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4998622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reinamy/pseuds/Reinamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Harria Potter wants is to spend the next few decades in peace. So when she stumbles across a young boy being haunted by a ghost, what does she do? She investigates, naturally. Let it never be said that stupidity diminishes with age.</p><p>Prequel to "Raðljóst."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> The fic will feature Fem!Harry and she will _eventually_ be in a polyamorous relationship with Akira and Hikaru. That is set in stone, folks. The story will be primarily set in the HNG universe though I won't be following the canonical timeline. Like, at all. It will also contain excessive POV switching, though I'll never rehash the same scene. Um. I don't play Go, but I did my best to make the games as understandable and entertaining as possible. Hopefully I succeeded. Anyway, please enjoy, folks!
> 
> Title is from the song "Hoppípolla" by Sigur Ros (which is Icelandic for "jumping into puddles").

_It was the end of another life._

Hooded eyes stared up at an ashen sky torn open by the weight of an irrepressible deluge. Soot-colored raindrops fell, but the woman couldn't feel any of it. She was numb, and she wasn't sure if it was due to the frigid air or because her body was shutting down and whatever temperature receptors she had were losing function.

A flash of lightening streaked across the sky, nearly blinding her, and she turned her head. Sand. For miles and miles there was nothing but sand, sweeping out around her like a sea of dust. Beneath her it felt like a coffin lining, and she found herself snorting at the morbid shape of her thoughts. Pain pulsed in herchest, and her minute amusement faded.

It wasn't as if the metaphor wasn't apt.

The woman sighed and lifted blood-soaked hands to her stomach, then slowly dragged them upwards, smearing a line of red up a beige blouson where it merged with the stain that was growing steadily from just below her clavicle. Trembling fingertips brushed the convergence point where flesh met steel, then traveled upwards, trailing the outline of an arrow that had been shot out of the sky from a transparent hovercraft her sensors had somehow failed to detect.

How they had found her, she didn't know. She didn't very much care, either. The machine was currently laying in a pit several meters away, the rain beating out the last dredges of flame that surrounded the twisted metal body. She doubted there were any survivors. Even from so far away she could smell the sharp stench of molten iron, of burning flesh, of smoke and gas and death. If there were survivors, then they must be pretty magical themselves.

She should probably heal herself, she knew, before _they_ came to investigate. It wasn't as if she hadn't had worse injuries in the past. And yet, she found herself reluctant to conjure the magic needed to mend the wound, the energy inside of her shimmering beneath her skin in abeyance when it should have been surging upwards to heal.

Should, should, should.

What would be the point of staying? She had nothing left to return to—the city she'd come to think of as home was gone, decimated by six years of merciless war. Her friends were much the same, bodies—those that could be found—long ago incinerated in pyres, ashes now circling the winds. There were people who still needed her—her commander, her comrades, the pathetic remains of an entire populace, but…

But she was so _tired._ So very, very tired, and the thought of returning to a life sustained by nothing but fighting, and death, and war, was the least of what she wanted. More than anything she just wanted to _sleep._ To close her eyes and rest, dreamlessly, peacefully, for however long it took her to wake up again.

But could she be that selfish?

The answer came startlingly quickly: she could.

With a sigh that rang of sheer relief the woman turned her face upwards and let her green eyes fall closed like a lowering pall. It didn't take long to succumb to her wounds, mercifully, and when Death came and drew her into its arms and carried her away, she went without struggling. She didn't plead with it to end her existence like she often did. She didn't even try to persuade it to let her choose where she ended up next. She was too exhausted to try.

The only thing that crossed the woman's mind before she shot up into the black ocean of space and became one of the many meteoroids that streaked through endless nothing—twining between spheres of fire and lightening and globes of rock, an airstream of golden light trailing behind—was the hope that wherever she woke up next would be calm. Peaceful.

_It was the beginning of another life._


	2. Mystery

**[1]**

Harria Potter—though she supposed she should start referring to herself as Potter Hariko again—wandered the bustling streets of Edo aimlessly. She faltered just as she stepped over an uneven arch of pavement and shook her head. No, that wasn't right. Tokyo. Edo was called Tokyo now.

She snorted ruefully to herself and ignored the startled glances a group of teenage girls shot her, absently noting that they were all fashioned in what she'd recently discovered was called _Lolita garb_. She hadn't yet decided whether she found the current fashion trend to be creepy as fuck or adorable. Currently her opinion was leaning towards the former.

Harria continued winding through the crowded streets, marveling at the myriad of buildings that seemed to impale the clouds.

'Tokyo' was nothing at all like the Edo she'd once known, where hard dirt and cobblestone had layered the ground and the tallest structure had been the Imperial Palace situated at the center of the city. Compared to the countless skyscrapers that now decorated the city, the Palace seemed like a toy model in comparison.

The changes were, frankly, astonishing.

But then, Harria had no way of knowing if the Japan she had once lived was the same one she currently dwelled—not without examining its history. For all she knew she could be in a different dimension, though she doubted that somewhat. Earth II (which was similar to her original planet, Earth I, except that the magical community had been extinct since before the middle ages, with a few unimportant variations here and there) tended to have a distinct smell—like ozone and storm clouds. Despite the cloying scent of gas, smoke, burnt metal, and _artificialness_ that permeated everything, Harria could still detect a lingering hint of its unique scent in the background.

Still, she had only been in this version of Edo for a few days—having woken in Tokyo Bay with nothing but the shade of a bridge and the faint glow of dawn to clothe her—so she refrained from assuming anything. The last time she thought she'd landed on Earth II she'd been abducted by an alien in a blue police box and had been thrust in the middle of an intergalactic war.

Let it never be said that Harria Potter didn't learn from her mistakes.

The streetlight changed, and she crossed the street.

A particularly brightly-lit billboard screen on the next block caught her attention (were those tap dancing _penguins?)_ and she stared intently at it, trying to figure out if it was real or another example of the astonishingly realistic three-dimensional animations that were literally everywhere. She turned a corner with her head still craned and—

Promptly collided with someone.

"Ow!" the other person cried as they crashed to the floor.

Harria would have apologized if she weren't seeing stars from the impact of the kid's head hitting her chin. With a pained hiss she squeezed her eyes shut and cupped her jaw, fingers rubbing the bruised skin. _Gods,_ but that hurt.

(Harria Potter, the nine-hundred-and-something year old witch who had defeated three dark lords, a guild of necromancers, a horde of aliens, a trickster god, a goblin despot, an army of the undead, and the fucking _boogey man_ , was conquered by a head to the chin. Oh, the irony.)

" _Sorry, kid,_ " she managed when the pain receded to something bearable.

The kid, still clutching his head, looked up at her strangely and it took her a moment to realize that she was speaking in modern Khuzdul. She hastily translated.

"Sorry," she repeated, the Japanese rolling off her tongue awkwardly.

"Just be more careful, would you? You could've killed me!" the kid said, waving her proffered hand away. He clambered to his feet, still grumbling under his breath.

Harria would have rolled her eyes at his whining if a flash of color hadn't edged into her periphery, stealing her attention.

They weren't alone.

Behind the kid stood a tall man. He was young, perhaps mid-twenties, and was dressed in a kimono that no longer belonged to that time period. He wore a tall hat over waist-length hair and had deep, violet eyes that were, at the moment, widened comically. The man was flailing behind the kid, arms outstretched like he desperately wanted to check to see if he was okay but wasn't quite sure if he could.

"Hikaru? Are you okay, Hikaru? Hikaru?" the man kept repeating.

Harria narrowed her eyes at him, and after a moment of careful scrutiny, dismissed the idea of him being some kind of actor. Her suspicions only solidified when the _boy—Hikaru,_ her mind supplied—shot the man an irritated glare and he shut up.

 _Ghost, then,_ Harria decided with no small amount of curiosity. The man was unlike any of the ghosts she had encountered in the past, whom were all devoid of color and generally lacked a presence. But there was still something _off_ about him, something that separated him from the living, imperceptible though it was. And had Harria not been who _she_ was, she probably wouldn't have noticed.

For all he seemed real, the man was muted—a portrait made in perfect likeness to the original, but still nothing more than a concoction of paper and paint.

And wasn't that curious; ghosts in a world where magic shouldn't exist.

After dusting himself off and lifting his bag from the ground, the kid walked away without another word, the ghost trailing after him like a loyal puppy.

Harria watched their retreating forms with a cocked head.

If she were smart she'd walk away. If she were smart she'd forget the encounter and put it behind her so she could concentrate on figuring out where she was, and what she was going to do with herself if she decided to stay.

Unfortunately she had never been one to do what she ought to have, and if there was one thing about her that hadn't changed, it was that she could never let a mystery go unsolved.

And a young boy who could communicate with ghosts in a universe that had very little in the way of magic was definitely a mystery.

Cursing her innate curiosity _(nosiness,_ a voice in the back of her head whispered), she broke into a jog. It didn't take long to reach the pair—they were at the edge of the block, waiting for light to change—and she sidled up next to them and blithely said, "Hey, kid? Did you know you have a ghost following you?"

Clearly he did, but it was as good a conversation starter as any.

The kid whirled around so fast it was a wonder he didn't get whiplash, and gaped at her in disbelief.

His counterpart, on the other hand, looked positively gleeful.

"You can see me?"

"Hard not to when you're wearing _that,"_ Harria answered, looking the ghost straight in the eye. Her lips quirked in amusement when he wiggled in place and _squealed._

Harria couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a ghost do something so, well, _human._ The last few she'd encountered—on Earth V—had been dreadful. But then, the beings in that world hadn't been particularly nice, either, so it stood to reason they'd become even nastier when they were dead.

"A-are you dead, too?" the kid stammered, and Harria had to force down the urge to laugh at how dismayed he looked, no doubt at the prospect of being haunted by _another_ ghost.

"No," she said with a grin that felt awkward on her face, as if it were no longer accustomed to accommodating such open expressions, "I'm still alive." Sort of. "I do have the ability to see ghosts, though. Among other things," she added slyly, just to get a rise out of the kid.

Hikaru didn't disappoint. He went pale and spluttered, doubtless at the thought of there being _other things_. Any guilt she might have felt about scaring the kid was pushed to the side as amusement thrummed inside her. It had been far too long since she'd been so entertained and wasn't about to let something as feeble as guilt ruin it for her.

No harm, no foul, and all that.

"Hey, hey, what's your name?" the ghost asked, drawing her attention away from the dazed kid. "I am Fujiwara no Sai. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, medium-san!"

Harria snorted inwardly at the thought of _her_ being a medium. Then again, she supposed it wasn't that much of a stretch, all things considered.

"Likewise, Fujiwara-san," she said, tacking on the suffix instinctively. She had lived in Edo— _Tokyo_ —for almost a century at one point, after all. "My name is Potter Harria. Feel free to call me Hariko, if you want. It might be easier to pronounce."

"Harria?" the ghost repeated, butchering the pronunciation like she knew he would. Her name sounded like _Hah-lee-uh_ when he said it. "That's an unusual name."

"Perhaps," she conceded, recalling the story of her naming that her godfather had told her so many lifetimes ago. Apparently her parents had been dead set on the name _Harry_ and hadn't wanted to choose another even after discovering their child was a girl. Tacking on an extra syllable to make it sound more feminine was their way of compromising.

Honestly, it was a miracle she still remembered the story; there weren't many things about her first life that she did.

"I'm fond of it, though," she said absently, shaking her head against the rush of fuzzy memories.

"Then I'll call you _Harria,_ too," the ghost insisted. "And you can call me _Sai."_

"Sai, then," she agreed with a curve of her lips; the ghost's enthusiasm was infectious.

Harria turned to the kid who was staring at her as if she were a Dementor about to consume his soul. It was hilarious. "And you're Hikaru, I take it?"

The kid took a step back and demanded, "How do you know my name?"

 _Don't laugh_ , she told herself. Out loud she said, "Sai mentioned it earlier."

He flushed. "Oh."

Harria lost the battle with herself and snorted.

"You should come with us, Harria!" Sai suddenly exclaimed, ignoring Hikaru's protest of _'No she shouldn't! I know enough weird people already, Sai!'_

Deciding to take her cue from Sai and ignore the kid, she asked, "Where to?"

It wasn't as if she had anything better to do, she justified, aside from hunting down a library. And that being the least interesting alternative, it could wait.

"Hikaru is taking me to someplace called an in-te-roo-uh-net-oo ca-fee," Sai explained, and Harria translated that to mean internet café. "We're going to see some apparatus called a com-pee-yoo-tah," computer, "so I can play Go on this in-te-roo-uh-net-oo thing."

The ghost looked absolutely confused as he fumbled over the strange terminology, and Harria sympathized. She'd felt the same way when she'd landed on the planet Raxacoricofallapatorius a few decades ago, where the language consisted of words that ran as long as twenty syllables. As proficient with the tongue-adapting spell as she was, even Harria had had trouble learning it. After six months on the planet she _still_ hadn't been able to hold a conversation to save her life.

Come to think of it, she _had_ almost died because she'd inadvertently insulted someone important when she'd been trying to ask for directions. That hadn't been fun.

Harria shook her head against the memories and paused when the _other_ thing Sai mentioned registered.

"Go? You mean the game with the black and white stones?"

If Sai had been excited before, he was positively vibrating with elation now.

"Yes, yes, that's the one! Are you familiar with it?"

Beside them, Hikaru slapped a hand over his face and groaned.

Clearly the game was important to the ghost.

"Mm. I used to play, though it's been a while," she admitted, omitting the fact that 'a while' was more or less three hundred years. Give or take a few decades.

"Oh, then we'll definitely have to play against each other!" He rounded on Hikaru and pleaded, eyes shimmering with tears that Harria wasn't sure were feigned or not. "Please, Hikaru? Please? I want to play her, Hikaru! Hey, Hikaru? Hikaru? Are you listening to me? Hikaru! I said I—"

"Alright, alright!" Hikaru exploded. "Just stop nagging me already!"

"Thank you, Hikaru!"

Harria chuckled lowly, more than certain now that some of his pestering behavior was contrived. As it had taken less than a minute for Hikaru to give in despite not wanting any part of it, it certainly seemed effective.

Clearly Sai wasn't as naïve as he looked.

"Do you still want to go to the café or not?" Hikaru asked irritably, glaring at Harria as if she were to blame for the odd turn the pair's day had taken. Though she supposed she kind of was at fault. Not that that it stopped her from answering his glare with a lopsided smile, or laughing outright when he muttered something unflattering under his breath.

Sai faltered and glanced uncertainly between Harria and Hikaru. After several seconds he looked beseechingly at Harria, his longing plain on his face.

"I'll come with you," she conceded, "and we can have a match after. That is, if Hikaru-kun over there doesn't mind me tagging along."

The puppy-dog expression was now thankfully aimed elsewhere.

"Don't you have anything better to do than hang out with a stranger and a dead guy?" Hikaru asked snidely. He purposely ignored Sai's affronted squawk.

"Not really, no," Harria said with an unrepentant grin.

"Ugh, fine. Just don't talk to this guy out loud, alright? I don't want people thinking I'm hanging out with a crazy person."

"I could always just pretend I'm talking to you," she pointed out, securing her bag over her shoulder and falling into step beside Hikaru as he stalked across the street. They reached the curb just as the light turned blue and cars started zipping past.

"Ugh, _whatever._ Do what you want."

She and Sai shared a triumphant grin and fell back so they could follow Hikaru's lead.

"So, Sai. How did you come about haunting that kid, anyway? 'Cause honestly, you don't really seem like the haunting type."

In front of them, Hikaru snorted.

Mottled red bloomed across Sai's pale cheeks and he averted his gaze in embarrassment. He stayed quiet for a long moment, so long that Harria was starting to give up on receiving an answer, but he eventually broke the silence with a soft exhale.

"Many, many years ago I was born in…"

* * *

 

**[2]**

_Potter Harria_.

A strange name for a stranger girl. And Shindou Hikaru wasn't just referring to her ability to see ghosts, though that was weird, too.

He observed the girl while pretending to read his manga. It hadn't started out that way—he had genuinely been intending to read it—but the strange girl was just _there_ and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes from darting in her direction. It hadn't taken him long to abandon the comic and give in to the urge to study her.

Potter Harria. She was a foreigner, obviously, though Hikaru couldn't place her accent. Unsurprising; Hikaru hadn't met many foreigners and tended to only watch anime and live-action dramas when he was in the mood to stare at a screen.

Harria, as she insisted on being called since Sai was doing so anyway (not that he minded; Hariko was even _weirder_ and it reminded Hikaru of those creepy paper dolls his grandma liked to collect), had dark, shoulder-length hair that looked like it hadn't ever seen a comb (which was really weird; didn't girls like dolling themselves up and stuff?). She had green eyes, like Hikaru, but hers were so much _greener_ than his, like the gemstones that were sometimes showcased in shop windows.

She was also tanned, like he was, and favored comfortable, loose clothes, like he did, but that was where the similarities ended. Aside from their eye color, hair color (his bleached bangs exempted), tanned skin, and partiality to baggy clothing, Hikaru and Harria were nothing alike.

Honestly, Harria wasn't like _anyone_ he had ever met before.

She looked to be only a few years older than Hikaru, maybe fourteen or so, but…she didn't act like a teenager. Her outdated patterns of speech notwithstanding (she said she'd learned Japanese from period dramas, and Hikaru didn't have a reason not to believe her; foreigners were weird that way), she just seemed so much more mature than she should. There was just something about Harria that made him feel like she was older than she looked.

Kind of like…Sai.

Hikaru swiveled his gaze towards the ghost who'd been haunting him for the better part of two months now and frowned. That was it, he thought. She was like Sai.

Sai was a whiny crybaby who took the term 'childish' to new levels and honestly made Hikaru forget that he was a thousand-something year old ghost and not some random five year old that had started to follow him around on whim. And yet, there were times when Sai would do something, or say something, or tilt his head just so under a certain angle of light and it would hit him just how _ancient_ the ghost was—older than he portrayed himself to be in more ways than one.

Sometimes, when Sai thought Hikaru wasn't paying attention, the ghost would just _stare_ at him, violet eyes piercing and shadowed with things that made Hikaru's breath catch in his throat. He'd look at Hikaru with such desperation, such _loneliness,_ like he was afraid to look away even for a second just in case Hikaru might disappear.

And then Hikaru would think about how he'd been haunting a block of wood for hundreds of years, partially aware with no one to talk with, no one to touch, no one to know that he _existed_ and—

That look was why Hikaru didn't argue excessively when Sai made him do things he didn't want to do. Why he didn't push him away when he got too clingy. Why he tried not to complain too much about his presence despite Hikaru rarely being given a moment to himself anymore.

Harria gave him a similar impression. She gave off an air of being sometimes laidback and other times playful, but then she'd do something to shatter the illusion. Such as when Hikaru pulled the foldable goban he'd wheedled from his grandpa out in front of her.

One moment she'd been smiling and teasing Sai and the next she'd gone completely still, eyes trained on the goban like it was the only thing in the room. For a moment, no longer than a heartbeat's pause, she had looked like a ghost herself, out of place or out of time, he wasn't sure. He only knew that she had seemed _displaced_ somehow, despite her modern appearance and her familiarity with technology.

Hikaru had felt utterly trapped in the gravity of her gaze, ensnared like a fly caught on sticky paper. He hadn't been able to think, to move, to breathe. He had just frozen, the nearly weightless goban in his hands feeling far heavier than it should have, as she skewered him with eyes so old Sai seemed almost young in comparison.

And then she had blinked and the moment had shattered. Color and sound returned to the world, the air became breathable again, and no longer did it seem like his feet were cemented to the floor.

It had only been a moment, too sudden for even Sai to have noticed, but it had felt like an eternity.

Harria hadn't acted any differently afterward. He didn't know her well enough to determine if she'd been acting in a way that wasn't characteristic of her, but she hadn't behaved any differently than she had been before. She went right back to conspiring with Sai—

(Hikaru was certainly going to have his work cut out for him with those two partnering up. And he didn't even consider that Harria might not stick around. Harria didn't look like she had anything better to do and Sai would probably do everything in his power to keep her around. Hikaru knew Sai liked him, but he aware that he wasn't the easiest person to be around, so the amicable Harria was probably a breath of fresh air to the ghost. Not to mention, with the two of them keeping each other company, Hikaru might get some breathing space, as well.)

—and teasing Hikaru and just generally being a menace, and after a while Hikaru had seriously started to doubt what he had seen.

And then he'd catch the ghost of a shadow in her eyes and he'd be right where he started. Honestly, it was driving him more than a touch mad.

"I resign," Harria's voice cut through his musings and Hikaru flinched, startled.

"You're really good, Sai," she continued, eyeing the black and white stones on the board with something bordering on awe. "It's been a long time since I've played, but I can determine that much."

"Thank you, Harria." Sai smiled broadly, looking positively gleeful. "You're quite a good player, too."

Harria shot him a disbelieving look, and Sai shook his head with a smile that was more tame. "No, _you_ are. You definitely have talent. Your hands are steadfast and your moves often unpredictable, so much so that you caught me off guard a few times and I've been playing for, well, quite a long time."

Here they shared a grin Hikaru didn't understand. He felt put out that they were already hiding things from him and they had only just met. Not to mention, Sai was his ghost. He _definitely_ shouldn't be keeping secrets from the person he was haunting. Surely that had to be a rule or something.

Hikaru vowed to wheedle it out of Sai later. Maybe it was the the reason why Harria sometimes looked like that. He thought about it for a moment, remembered the way she had said " _Other things_ ," and shuddered.

…Maybe he would be better off not knowing after all.

"You have a confident hand, and you're relentless on both an offensive and defensive front. If you were more experienced at reading ahead you would have made taking back the territory over here," he pointed his fan at a cluster of white stones on the lower left side of the board, "much more difficult. Overall, it was a very satisfying game and I sincerely look forward to playing you again in the hopefully immediate future."

Harria chuckled lowly. "Flattery, Sai?"

Sai only beamed at her.

The sound of stones clanking together echoed in the room as Harria began to clear the board, sliding the black stones into one plastic go-ke and the white stones into another.

"Would you like to learn how to play, Hikaru-kun?" Harria asked, peering at him from the shadow of her bangs.

Sai promptly turned to him with a yearning look, pleading with his eyes.

"It would make Sai happy," she continued. The look in her eyes was _knowing_ and she couldn't quite keep the hint of a smirk off her face.

Hikaru glared at her. "Why would I want to know how to play an old people's game, huh?"

From the corner of his eye he saw Sai's expression fall, and honestly, Hikaru would have felt less guilty drowning a litter of puppies.

"That's not true, Hikaru!" Sai inserted vehemently. "Go is a game for all people of all ages! Why, I was only a child when I started learning it—"

"A bajillion years ago," Hikaru muttered.

"—and does Harria look like an old person to you?" he continued without missing a beat. "Come on, Hikaru! It will be fun! I promise!"

"No," Hikaru said, crossing his arms stubbornly.

Sai thrust his lower lip out and hung his head in resignation.

From the other side of the room he heard Harria start to count. She made it to the number six when the sight of Sai's tears became too much for him and he sighed in defeat. "Just once, alright?" he groaned, lifting himself to his feet.

He pointedly did not acknowledge the fact that Sai's eyes were completely dry when he looked up.

"Oh, thank you, Hikaru! You won't regret it!"

"I'm already regretting it," he grumbled, just to be difficult. When he turned his head to the side to give himself something other than a bouncing Sai to look at, he saw Harria looking at him with amusement.

 _Six seconds_ , she mouthed.

Hikaru stuck his tongue out in response. It felt good to do something so childish after so much mulling. All that thinking was starting to make his head hurt.

* * *

 

**[3]**

"No, don't hold the stones like that!" Sai snapped, slapping his fan lightly over the back of Hikaru's fingers. "You put them between your center finger and index finger. Not like that, Hikaru! Of course the stone is going to slip if you—oh, Harria, could you just show him, please?"

Harria snickered as she made her way towards him and sank into the space beside Hikaru, close enough that he could feel warmth radiating off of her but not so close that they actually touched.

"Now watch Harria, Hikaru. Hey, are you listening? Hikaru? Hikaru! You'll never learn if you don't—"

With reluctance, Hikaru pulled his attention away from the hint of a dark tattoo that poked out of the opening of her long sleeve and tried to emulate what she was doing. He clumsily lifted a black stone from the go-ke the way she instructed and brought it to rest on a small square.

It hit the spruce board with a loud _clack_ and Hikaru blinked, thrown off by how…good that had felt. It was nothing like the dull _tap_ it had made when he'd been holding the stones between his thumb and forefinger. Placing the stones down with an appropriate grip was…actually kind of cool. Huh.

He reached into the go-ke for another stone and did it again, just to see if the same feeling of _rightness_ would wash over him.

It did.

Hikaru was so absorbed by the what he was doing that he failed to notice the looks Sai and Harria shared over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've probably realized this already, but this is un-beta'd. Also, I abuse italics horribly. Sorry! 
> 
> Terms:  
> (1) Goban - Go board  
> (2) Go-ke - bowl that holds Go stones


	3. Enlightment

**[1]**

Harria's hand was poised to rap against the door of Hikaru's house when it was suddenly wrenched open.

"You're late," Hikaru snapped, grabbing her hand and pulling her inside. Harria kicked the door shut without looking at it and let herself be dragged through the house by a boy whose head barely came up to her shoulders. "Sai has been driving me crazy and it's all your fault!"

"I don't think Sai requires my help to accomplish that," Harria pointed out wryly. She grinned when Hikaru looked over his shoulder to glare at her, counting it as a win when he didn't respond. After all, it was true.

"That isn't the point! You have no idea—"

"Hikaru?" a woman's voice cut through his tirade.

Harria almost collided with his back when Hikaru suddenly stopped in his tracks, craning his head to look behind him. A short, rather plain looking woman in a modest cardigan and skirt stood in between an open doorway, looking confusedly between Hikaru, Harria, and their clasped hands.

"Hikaru? Who's this?"

"Oh. Hey, mom. This is Harria. Um, Potter Harria. She's the one who's been teaching me Go. I mentioned that the other day, remember?" Hikaru said impatiently.

"I told you she was coming over."

"Well, yes, but…" the woman trailed off, looking uncertain. Instinctive politeness eventually kicked in and she offered a short bow to her guest. "Please forgive my rudeness. I am Shindou Mitsuko. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise, Shindou-san," Harria said. "I apologize for my abrupt visit."

"No, Hikaru did tell me…it must have slipped my mind…"

"Okay then," Hikaru said loudly, cutting her off. "We'll be up in my room, alright?" He paused and added, "We won't be here for long, though. We're going out."

"Going out?" Hikaru's mother repeated with faint alarm.

"That's what I said, isn't it?," Hikaru said with annoyance, oblivious to his mother's misapprehension.

Harria rolled her eyes and flicked his lobe.

"Ow! What the heck was that for?"

"You're being rude."

"I'll give _you_ rude!" Hikaru snapped, rubbing his ear. "Ugh, whatever, let's just go!"

"Bye, Shindou-san," Harria called as she was tugged up the stairs. The woman said something in reply, but whatever it was was lost in the deafening excitement of the resident ghost.

"Harria-chan! You're here! I worried that you might have slept in." Which was a comical assumption given Harria rarely slept those days, opting to spend her nights wandering the streets of Tokyo instead of reliving moments that were better left forgotten. "But never mind that! Look at the game Hikaru and I played last night! Look how far he's come!"

Hikaru muttered under his breath about _embarrassing, doting ghosts_ and Harria snickered. She obediently trailed after Sai, who led her to the finished game spread out in the middle of the floor. Squatting, Harria studied the game, immediately distinguishing Hikaru's play as black, and tried to follow the flow of the game based on the formation of the stones.

When she finally grasped it she leaned forward and whistled, impressed. "Nice play there, Hikaru-kun," she commented, referring to the pattern of stones on the upper right corner that had successfully cut off black's ascension, which was no small feat when white was played by Sai.

Hikaru threw himself on the bed with a huff. " _Tch_. I still lost in, like, ten minutes," he grumbled.

"Maybe, but you've only been playing for a month. That you managed _this_ ," she gestured towards the somewhat advanced play on the board, "is remarkable. When I first learned, it took me weeks to be able to do anything but beginner's _tsumego_ problems. You've got talent, kid."

"Don't _you_ call me _kid_ ," Hikaru muttered, cheeks reddening from the praise. He flipped over and burrowed his head in his pillow, clearly embarrassed, and his two observers shared amused glances behind his back.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" Harria flopped onto the mattress beside him. It bounced, and Hikaru flicked her leg in annoyance. Or perhaps in retaliation; she wasn't sure. "Aside from visiting that Internet Café, I mean."

Sai clasped his hands together and squealed, "Guess what, guess what? We're going to a tournament!"

Harria's eyebrows flew up and she stared between the two in surprise. "Is that so?"

The last time they had discussed such a thing Hikaru had quickly put his foot down. Apparently the kid had no intention of being in the limelight, which was sure to happen if someone as powerful as Sai suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and guised as an eleven year old, no less. Sai was reasonably disappointed that Hikaru wouldn't follow in the footsteps of Torajirou or Shuusaku or whatever the guy's name was, but Harria, never one to enjoy the spotlight herself (though that never stopped fate from shoving her into it), understood Hikaru's plight a lot more.

If Hikaru entered the Go world now he'd be labeled a prodigy and that would garner attention he couldn't begin to deal with, least of all because he was only a kid who had just started to learn and knew very little about the game, or the world, to begin with.

Everyone would ask him who he'd been taught by, and what would he say? No doubt his parents would have a problem with some stranger meeting up with their child in secret and then refusing to meet with them to allay their concerns.

Harria had flirted with the idea of making herself look older and presenting herself as Hikaru's teacher, but the thought of claiming someone else's talent as her own didn't sit well with her. Not to mention, she wasn't quite ready to make herself known just yet. Her current life as a carefree preteen who had only an overenthusiastic, Go-obsessed ghost and a grumpy, loudmouthed kid to deal with more than satisfied her.

Though she supposed that was to be expected considering how hectic her life had been before she'd crossed to this place. Lazing about with a dead guy and his shrimp suited her just fine.

"Only to _watch_ ," Hikaru stressed the word, giving Sai a _look_. "It's some children's tournament I read about on the 'Net. Apparently anyone can check it out, and observers get in for free."

"Will you come?" Sai asked, hopefully.

"Sure," Harria agreed. "Someone has to keep grumpy-mc-grumps over here out of trouble."

And besides, Go was starting to become interesting. She had only learned to play it in the first place because the noblewoman she had been hired to protect when she'd lived in Edo had demanded that Harria, known as Hariko back then, learn alongside her. She had agreed as it was a way to pass the monotonous time between fighting the endless stream of mercenaries and assassins who sought her client's life, and had been taught by a master of the time until her charge had died from illness two years later.

Harria had never taken an interest in the game, seeing it only as a momentary reprieve from boredom. Shogi, which resembled chess more closely, had always seemed far more interesting in comparison.

But there was something about the way Sai taught Go, voice laced with affection and eyes harboring a deep-rooted love that transcended centuries, that struck a chord inside her. She couldn't help but reciprocate his enthusiasm when he talked about the game. Somewhere along the line Harria had started to take learning it seriously (she was honest enough with herself to admit that it probably had a lot to do with her competitive streak, which was rearing its head now that she was being beaten by a _ghost_ on a daily basis).

She had to wonder if Go would be this life's new _thing_ (because each Cross was the start of a new life to her, she truly believed that, otherwise she would have gone insane centuries ago), the same way healing had been in her previous life, and archery the one before that, and weapon forgery the one before that.

The thought was…acceptable. More than, even.

"Quit calling me _grumpy_ ," Hikaru said, rather grumpily.

Harria, because she was a bit of a jerk, laughed at him.

"Hey, Hikaru? Shouldn't we be leaving now? It's getting late and I don't want to miss it." Sai sounded genuinely worried about the prospect.

Hikaru hauled himself to his feet with a sigh. "Fine. Let's go before Sai gives himself an aneurism or something."

"…What's an aneurism, Hikaru?"

Harria followed after the two, amused by their antics and more than content with the direction her new life was heading. It was, perhaps, the most peaceful she had been in over a century and she was determined for things to remain that way as long as possible.

After the clusterfuck that had been her last life, she was due her bit of downtime.

* * *

 

 

**[2]**

To Sai, it was unimaginably relieving to know that despite all that had changed (and so much had, to the extent that he felt like a _foreigner_ in a country he's resided in longer than anyone) Go had remained a constant; a boulder in the center of a river that was still there, as strong and steady as ever. Erosion might have caused the boulder's shape to change, but its fundamental makeup had not been altered, and it was still as enduring as it had always been. The ripples and waves of time had not changed that.

The sight of all those children, some even younger than he'd been when his Uncle had taught him the game so long ago, playing his life's work, and now the reason for his continued existence, was _staggering_. It had taken so much effort on Sai's part not to fall to his knees and weep like the crybaby Hikaru insisted he was.

All those faces, tight with concentration. All those sounds—the rustle of stones being shifted in go-ke, the piercing _clanks_ as they connected with boards made of kaya, the soft whispers of _please_ and _I resign_ and _thank you_. An atmosphere of the most sophisticated and strategic of battles taking place.

What Sai would not do, what Sai would not _give_ , to be a part of that, flesh and blood with the ability to feel the smooth stones between his fingertips and play with his God-given hands. To be more than an outsider, a shade of the living, a _ghost,_ incapable of sound or touch.

Disconnected.

Sai tried to hide the pain of his empty existence with an exuberance that was only partly feigned. He had none to blame but himself, and Hikaru, who had already given up so much for him, did not deserve to bear the crippling weight of his anguish. Not on top of everything else he was made to carry. So he smiled and whined and flitted about like the child he desperately wished he could be, and pretended to ignore the odd looks Hikaru periodically shot him (because he couldn't even do that right) and the puzzling gaze of their newest addition.

Potter Harria. A normal girl for all intents and purposes, except that she could see ghosts. Except that she talked to Sai with the ease of someone who interacted with the dead regularly. Except that the loneliness, the _agelessness_ , in her eyes could only be rivaled by the shadows in his own.

The girl was a conundrum. Simply put, she didn't make _sense._ She felt like the living, she breathed like the living, she moved like the living…and yet there was something _off_ about her that set her apart. A ghost in her own right, only one trapped in human skin.

When they had first met, Sai had been too ecstatic by the prospect of being seen by _another_ person to notice. He was still excited (because as much as he adored Hikaru, the boy was hardly the best conversationalist), but it was no longer a screen that distorted his vision, and the more time he spent with her, the more clearly he saw.

Harria was not human. She was not a spirit like he was, cursed to linger in a world that was as intangible as the air he could not breathe. She was not a demon, for Sai had met one in his not-lifetime and their auras simply weren't the same. She was something _other_ , something that had lived as long as he had, perhaps longer, and seen as much as he had, perhaps more.

And Sai desperately wanted to know. He didn't care that she was not a spirit. Perhaps he did envy her the senses he was deprived of, but her eyes were the same as his and that was all that mattered. For the first time in centuries Sai had found someone who might be able to _understand_ , and that was…beyond words.

So when Hikaru was dragged away by the intimidating men in western suits because he'd been incapable of keeping his mouth shut, Sai ignored the uncomfortable tugging of the threads that connected Sai to his human host and turned to the polestar of his wonderings.

" _I'm surprised you withheld your questions for this long,"_ Harria's voice echoed in his mind.

Sai's eyes widened because her lips were still closed, curled at the corners in a mimicry of a smile. He stared at the girl, so deceptively normal looking (except for her eyes, which expressed everything a face made of stone could not), and cocked his head.

"What are you?" he asked, choosing to get to the point. He realized that was perhaps rather tactless of him, so he quickly added, "If you do not mind me asking, that is."

To Sai's relief, Harria did not appear to be insulted. She only snorted somewhat drolly and leaned against the wall at her back. _"That's a good question,"_ she said, " _but honestly, I'm not quite sure myself."_

Sai frowned, not quite understanding, because how could someone _not know_ what they were?

" _I was human once,"_ she started, and the words sounded almost rehearsed, as if she had said them many times before. _"Many centuries ago. Almost ten now, I think. Of course, that was on an entirely different world from this one—"_

"Wait, a different _world?_ " Sai interrupted, unable to keep his outburst contained.

Harria shot him an amused glance and continued as if he hadn't spoken, _"Similar in various ways, except for one. See, in the world I was born in people had magic. Yes, probably the exact magic you're thinking about. My people could fly, and conjure elements out of nothing, and turn teaspoons into live mice—that kind of thing. We were an entire community, nearly ten million total, that kept ourselves hidden from people who couldn't wield magic._

" _Well, to make a long story short, when I was seventeen I had to fight a Dark Lord, an evil magic user who was trying to take over the world, basically, and in order to kill him I had to collect these…artifacts, ones said to have been forged by_ Death _himself. There must have been some truth to it because I died, came back to life, and haven't been able to die since."_

Harria shrugged as if she weren't relaying the most fantastical, extraordinary, absolutely insane story Sai had ever heard. And he was a _ghost._

"But…what…how…?" he tried, but the words kept dying on his tongue. There were a million questions whirring around his head but every time he tried to verbalize one a million others raced to the forefront, determined to take its place.

Harria chuckled lowly as if she understood his dilemma and continued her story with far more calm than Sai was experiencing. _"About a century and a half later the magical community had apparently reached its limits with me and tried to hunt me down. Their reasons were unending—I was too powerful, I was potentially dangerous, I was the solution to viral immunity and immortality, and so on. By that point pretty much every magical government was after me and…well, the memory is hazy but I remember being cornered by a literal army of Aurors and Unspeakables—"_

Sai wanted to ask what those were, but he couldn't quite bring himself to speak.

"— _and scared shitless because I was going to be captured and experimented on for the rest of what I feared was going to be a considerably long life…and I killed myself,"_ she admitted sheepishly, like suicide wasn't the shameful thing Sai knew it to be.

" _I aimed a_ killing curse _at myself and died, and I remember someone speaking to me though I still can't remember who it was or what they'd said…well, anyway, when I woke up I was somewhere else."_

"Where?" Sai asked with a rasp.

Harria scrunched her nose and tapped her chin with a slender finger. Sai distantly noticed that her fingernails were painted red. _"Hm…well, the different worlds don't always have names, you know? And the ones that don't, I name them myself. I think that one was Earth III_ , _which is incredibly different from this one. I mean, there were still humans and everything, but there were lots of other things that weren't…like humanoid robots and giant furry beings…and basically everyone lived on different planets and there was no magic, just something called the_ Force _, and it's just my luck that I ended up smack in the middle of an intergalactic war…_ " she trailed off with a shake of her head.

"What happened when you woke up? What did you do? How long did you stay there? How did you leave, because you're _here_ now so clearly you must have moved on to another world," Sai exclaimed, then pressed his lips together to keep himself from blurting out any more questions. He didn't want to overwhelm the girl who was so kindly divulging her life story to him, but this wasn't anything like what he had been expecting when he asked her the simple question (at least, comparatively) of what she was.

" _It's fine,"_ she murmured, eyes unfocused and distant. Sai didn't need to be told that she was seeing things that weren't there. _"As you can imagine, I freaked out when I woke up. Didn't know where I was except that I was in the middle of some desert. Got involved in a war that I really had no business being in, but that's become the story of my life, to be honest. I left…well, I ended up dying. Took a shot to the chest, died, and woke up in another world."_

It took Sai a moment to get the question out. "So…you have to die in order to...travel to different worlds? And you have no control over where you end up?" Sai knew he sounded horrified, but he couldn't rein it in. He had died just the once, but it was something he never wanted to experience again.

The smile that stretched across her face was anything but humored. _"Exactly. I die_ — _which you should know hurts like hell every time_ — _and then I wake up somewhere new. Sometimes I revisit worlds, but that has only happened twice so far. And before you ask, this is my…twelfth life now, I think. Well, fifteenth if you're being technical, but I was killed almost immediately after I woke up so I don't really count those."_

She had died fifteen times.

And she said it so flippantly, like didn't even care, when Sai had only died the once and could barely speak of it without drowning in despair.

Sai closed his eyes to block out the rest of the world (ironic, since he was always so desperate to take in each sight like it would be his last) and took a moment to process what she had told him. It wasn't that she didn't care, he decided. Of course she did, and Sai felt foolish for thinking otherwise. She had just become…not immune, but desensitized to it, the way a swimmer could hold their breath for long periods of time. It still hurt, but they learned to keep going despite the pain, to brush it aside when anyone else would be gasping for breath.

"Harria—," he started, stopping when the words refused to come once again. He could feel tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, not out of pity, because despite everything he had learned there was absolutely nothing pitiable about the girl— _the_ _woman—_ but in sympathy, because Sai couldn't even _imagine_. And how mindboggling it was that he, a _ghost_ , one who was cursed to move in whatever direction the strings of fate pulled him, could look at another person and be glad that he were not in their shoes.

Sai felt like the most horrible person in the world just for thinking it.

Harria rolled her eyes at him and snorted in exasperation. _"You are such a crybaby, Sai_."

"Am not," Sai said, hiding his face behind his tumbling sleeves so she wouldn't see the visible proof of her accusation.

When Harria laughed in that moment it was filled with genuine amusement, which caused Sai to tear up even more because _how could she still laugh after all she had been through?_

" _The same way you can,"_ Harria's voice filtered through his head, and he looked up at her in shock.

"You can—"

" _You're so expressive, Sai,"_ she said. Her eyes were laughing at him.

Sai shot her a withering glare and opened his mouth, but before he could utter a protest (lie that it might have been), Hikaru was calling their names and stomping towards them, face contorted in an irritated scowl.

"Let's go," Hikaru snapped, sidestepping Sai and Harria and stomping out of the room and into the furnished lobby.

The two that were left behind looked at each other, blinked, and followed after the surly boy. Sai remembered that Hikaru had been practically abducted by the tournament administrators for making a scene, and felt guilty for having forgotten him when he had been kind enough to take him here on his rare day off.

And then he recalled their exact reason for being there and stopped in his tracks.

He'd been so caught up in Harria's story that he had actually forgotten to observe the games!

Sai felt fresh tears gather in his eyes and burrowed his hands in his sleeves once again.

Harria pulled him out of his despair with an amused chuckle and a reassuring pat to his back. _"Come on, Sai. I promise I'll bully Hikaru into attending another one of these things soon, okay?"_

"Promise?" he asked, too miserable to feel guilty for siccing Harria on the boy. If Hikaru ever found out he'd never forgive him.

" _Yes, Sai. Now come on before Scrooge over there throws a fit."_

"…Who?"

Harria snorted. _"Right. Ghost. Sorry, never mind."_

Sai huffed and quickened his pace, determined to catch up to Hikaru before he realized they were so far behind. Hikaru looked irritated enough, and if Sai had any chance of playing shidou-go with him later that day he'd have to be on his best behavior. If he pouted a little he was sure Hikaru would relent regardless, but Sai didn't want to use his powers too much, lest the boy become immune. That would be very, very unfortunate, indeed.

"You never told me what you were, exactly," Sai said after a minute, thoughts circulating to their interrupted conversation. "I know you said human, but…"  
Harria took a long moment to answer. He glanced sideways at her, worried that he might have overstepped his his bounds or irritated her with all his questions, and relaxed when she only looked thoughtful.

" _Like I said…I don't really know. My people had this legend that the person who was in possession of all of_ Death's _creations would be given a mantle. The objects were all powerful in their own right, which was why so many people sought them, but the objects…they're cursed._ Death _didn't like anybody stealing what was his, and it didn't end well for those who did._

" _I don't know why I, of all people, was chosen. Honestly, I don't even think I was. I think I was just lucky. Or unlucky, really. Wrong place, wrong time, that sort of thing."_ She tilted her head back and sighed, a small, wistful sound that hung in the air.

"And that mantle?" Sai questioned hesitantly.

Harria pursed her lips and voiced, _"The Master of Death."_

Sai froze. He didn't even realize he had stopped until someone stepped through him and he momentarily dispersed into a million spiritual particles before reforming. The annoyance he usually felt when that happened did not appear, lost in favor of the sheer _something_ that was churning in his nonexistent gut.

"W-what—"

Harria waved her hand dismissively. _"It's a load of rot, if you ask me. I doubt anyone would be able to master_ Death _, and anyway, it's not like I've seen him. Her. It. Whatever it is. And if I were its master I would have had to have met it once already, right?"_

It was said as a question, but she didn't wait for a response.

" _Also, I'm sure there'd have to be obligations of the title, right? And I can tell you right now that I've done nothing for the position. It's just a myth."_

Sai pondered that. It wasn't exactly illogical, but…

"Maybe you're being too literal?" he suggested, tentatively. He squirmed when Harria's look became piercing. "What I mean is…maybe it's not a mastery of an entity, but the act itself. And considering how many times you've, um," he stopped, unable to say the word.

" _Died,"_ Harria helped him out. It was followed by an explosive sigh. _"Don't think I haven't thought about that, too, because I have. I just don't want to acknowledge it. I don't want to accept it. I still have hope of one day_ dying _. For good. I don't want to consider that I…"_

That she might never be able to move on. That she might be cursed to exist in the world forever, haunted by regrets and fears and losses for all eternity, and forced to continue on while her loved ones were left behind time and time again.

"Yes,"Sai whispered, because in that he understood.

" _Yes,_ " she echoed.

"Harria," he started, clenching his fists. "Harria, do you think you might be able to…"

_Help me_ , he didn't say.

Harria's eyes reminded Sai of the forest he used to skirt the edges of when he was a child, vivid green and full of shadows that sprung to life and created stories. When she shook her head slowly, lips pressed in a thin line, a crystal blue overtook the green and for a single moment, no longer than the pause between heartbeats, he was drowning, sinking into the depths of the lake while the sky drew further away, as if reluctant to bear witness to his shame.

The moment was broken when Harria expelled a sharp breath. " _No, Sai. Those objects grant me no powers except the inability to die and travel worlds…and my own inherent magic is capable of no such thing. There were ghosts in my world, too, many of them, but no one was ever to able to figure out why they lingered when others passed on, what tethered them, or how they could be released. I delved into the research myself when a friend of mine…well, I was never able to find anything._

" _There were ways of sending spirits on in my last world, but those spirits were…unique to that universe, as were the methods. I…I'm sorry, but I can't be of any help in this."_

And Sai could not fault her for that, not when she sounded genuinely regretful, despite having her own continued existence to contend with.

"It's alright," he forced himself to say, shoving down the disappointment as far as it would go. He and regret were old, bitter friends, so it wasn't difficult.

"You…you would have, if it was within your power, and I appreciate that more than you can know."

She never would have begrudged him a chance to move on even if she couldn't achieve the same. Sai would not insult her compassion by being petty.

"We'll just have to keep hoping that we accomplish whatever it is God needs us to do so we can finally rest." That hope was the only thing keeping him from turning into a sniveling ball of gloom.

" _Yeah_ ," she said wistfully, face turned towards the ceiling lights. _"That would be nice."_

"Oi! What are you doing just standing there?" Hikaru shouted, startling Sai so badly he almost fell over. "I've been calling your names for ages! Come _on,_ already! We're going to be late for dinner and you _know_ how my mom gets!"

Hikaru stopped in front of them, hands planted over his hips in a way Sai had seen his mother do countless times. He watched as Hikaru looked between the two of them and his hands fell limply to his sides, fingers twitching in a gesture the boy refused to admit was a nervous habit. His scowl gave way to a frown, which eased into something almost fragile.

"Are…are you two alright?" he asked, hesitantly, and it never failed to surprise Sai how perceptive this boy—who was all of eleven years—could be.  
Harria and Sai glanced at each other, and the message was conveyed loud and clear.

"We're fine," Sai chirped, looking away from his newfound ally and bounding towards his young host. "Hey, hey, Hikaru, when can we do this again? Soon? Maybe tomorrow?"

The glare reappeared as quickly as it had vanished. "Hell no!" he snapped, turning on his heel and stalking away. "I'm never going to another tournament again! This was so _boring!"_

And suddenly Sai didn't have to pretend anymore. "What! No it wasn't, Hikaru! Don't say that! Please, can we do it again? Maybe not tomorrow, but next week? Or, or next month! That would be okay, too! Please, Hikaru, I want to go again! You weren't serious, were you? Hikaru? Hikaru, stop ignoring me!"

Sai heard Harria chuckle softly behind him, and he allowed himself a brief moment of acceptance. No one could ever convince him that his existence was not a curse, but for the time being…he at least had someone who understood. Someone who felt what he did, and sympathized, and cared.

And for now, that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About Harria dying fifteen times: I want you all to first remember that she's been alive for nearly a millennium. That's a long time, and when you factor in 1) her habit of getting into trouble, and 2) her own suicidal tendencies (i.e., the prologue), well...I don't think that's too much of a stretch.
> 
> About Harria's mental link with Sai: no, she can't do that with everyone. Sai's a ghost and she's, well, the Master of Death. Think of it as a quirk of the title.
> 
> About the timeline: in this fic, Hikaru 1) was born a year earlier than he was in canon (there's a reason for that), and 2) knew Sai for 2 months prior to meeting Harria. This chapter takes place a few days after said meeting.
> 
>  
> 
> TERMS:   
> _tsumego_ \- life and death problem   
> _shidou-go_ \- teaching games  
>  _go-ke_ \- bowl that holds stones  
>  _goban_ \- Go board, traditionally made of kaya.


	4. Trials

**[1]**

  
"You're birthday is coming up, Hikaru," Harria announced suddenly.

Hikaru paused in his perusal of the board. He spared Harria a quick glance equipped with a raised brow, then returned his attention to the game. After a moment of deliberation he made the 54th move, and watched with satisfaction as a two-dimensional white stone appeared just left of the _tengen,_ successfully protecting the left quadrant from black's attack. He allowed himself a moment to inwardly gloat at his own cleverness (there might have been some relief mixed in, but he wasn't going to think about that) before he turned to Harria.

Like always, she was sprawled over _his_ bed, her stomach flat on the mattress while her feet kicked the air. She watched him with a curious tilt of her head and a small curve of her mouth that was a notch too lazy to be called a smile, and Hikaru had to shove down hard on the pins and needles that tried clawing its way up to his chest from his stomach.

(He wasn't going to think about that, either.)

"Yeah, what about it?" he asked with divided attention—one half on her, the other half trained on her laptop, which he was borrowing.

The user Hikaru was currently playing against on WorldIGoNet, _Zelda_ , was good. Perhaps not on Sai's level (he doubted anyone was), or even Harria's, but definitely above his. What few traps Hikaru had painstakingly set up had been detected and evaded with frustrating ease, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't wrangle control of the board back from _Zelda_ , who'd seized it from the start.

Though he'd never admit it, Sai's silent but supportive presence at his side was the only thing keeping him from total discouragement. Hikaru had lost against his last nine opponents, and if he didn't figure out a way to change the tide of the game before it reached _yose_ , _Zelda_ would be his tenth.

Sai insisted that playing against more experienced, and therefore stronger players would teach him more than playing those at his level, but Hikaru wasn't convinced. Each loss was a hit to his already-battered confidence, and it was a struggle to perform at his best when a part of him was doubting his ability to win. Thankfully it was only a small part, and as such easily overwhelmed by Hikaru's competitiveness and sheer stubbornness.

Hikaru supposed that Harria and Sai's unwavering confidence in his potential _sort of_ helped to keep him from giving up. Maybe. Just a bit. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud or anything—they were already too smug about his growing interest in the game as it was.

And it _was_ just that. An _interest._ Not an obsession, or a passion, or a life-calling, or anything of the sort. It was just something that was mildly interesting, enough to pass the time with, anyway. That was it. Hikaru could stop playing whenever he wanted to. _Really_.

But first, breaking this annoying losing streak.

"Your birthday, Hikaru?" Sai asked, the first words he'd spoken in nearly an hour. Then, in a manner that suggested the ghost was spending way too much time around his mom, he planted his hands on his hips and demanded, "When is it? And why didn't I hear about it, too!"

"It's next week, February 6th," Harria said before Hikaru could respond, "and Hikaru didn't tell me anything. I had to ask his grandfather."

At this, Hikaru palmed his face and groaned. So many strange and ridiculous things had happened since Harria had come into their lives nearly five months ago, but the weird girl's sudden rapport with his grandpa was definitely at the top of the list. All it had taken was one meeting between the two after his grandpa had learned she'd been the one to kindle Hikaru's interest in Go, and suddenly she's his honorary granddaughter and privy to all the 'grandchild benefits'.

Like heaping containers of his grandma's legendary dango, for example. Dango that Hikaru _still_ wasn't allowed to have because he'd forgotten to call on her birthday some months back, and which Harria absolutely refused to share. The jerk.

It was annoying, and embarrassing, and only served to add more complications to his life. Worse was that Harria seemed to get a kick out it, conspiring with the old man to further his study in Go, and reporting to him about Hikaru's progress, and making them visit his grandparent's house once a week so the three of them could spend hours over a goban.

Harria and Sai teaming up against him had been bad enough, and now he had to worry about his grandparent's, too. Who was next? Akari? The thought filled him with equal parts horror and grudging amusement, and deciding that it would be best to stop thinking about it at all, he tipped his head back and started spinning in the chair, focusing instead on the way the ceiling whirled.

Hikaru was startled out his thoughts when the computer emitted a quiet beep, and he planted both feet on the floor to still the chair. The room continued to spin around him, seeming intent to pull him along with it, so he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to regain his sense of balance. At the count of fifteen he hesitantly peeled them open. Better. His vision was steady and the squirming in his gut had, for the most part, ceased. With a relieved sigh he turned to the screen.

 _Zelda_ had made his move. And it wasn't in any of the locations Hikaru had been expecting.

"…What the heck?" he said after a pause, pressing his splayed palms against the desktop and peering incredulously at the black stone that appeared two points above his last play. Hikaru closed his eyes, half-convinced that he was still disoriented from the spinning, but when he cautiously opened them again _Zelda's_ stone was in the same hazardous spot.

The play was _terrible_. If Hikaru played his cards right, in another move or two he could easily kill the cluster of black stones to the right and expand white's territory to the sides.

Had _Zelda_ finally made a mistake?

He had an opening now. Right there, three spaces above _Zelda's_ last move, and black wouldn't be able to do anything to defend itself, not without weakening the formation of the cluster at the upper-right corner and leaving it vulnerable for attack.

Hikaru's fingers hovered over the touch pad. The cursor was exactly where he needed it to be. One click, and Hikaru would finally be able to even the game. Just one click. And yet, Hikaru couldn't bring himself to do it. Something…wasn't right. It was a feeling that niggled at the edges of his mind and tugged insistently within the center of his chest, refusing to be ignored.

 _It's too easy,_ Hikaru thought with dawning realization. His hand faltered, then retreated to the safety of his lap where it wouldn't be so easily tempted _. Too obvious. I'm missing something._

Seconds ticked by as Hikaru scoured the board, trying to figure out the cause for his unease, the reason behind his hesitation. After two minutes he began to get annoyed. After four, frustration was setting in. It was there. He _knew_ it was there. He just couldn't see it, couldn't figure it out, couldn't read far enough into the game. Nails bit into his palm as his hand tightened, threatening to wound as he searched and searched and searched.

Hikaru was sick of being such a weak player. It didn't matter that he'd only been playing for half a year, or that he was a quick learner, or that he had loads of potential. What good was any of it if he kept losing because he wasn't good enough, smart enough, talented enough _now_?

 _I'm going to figure this out if it kills me,_ he thought viciously, unclenching his fist and shifting to get more comfortable. Fingers drummed sporadically against the desk as he studied the board from every possible angle, the only thoughts in his head a litany of ' _if I were black, what would I do?'_ Even when the timer passed the five minute mark, the seven minute mark, the twelve minute mark, he didn't stop searching. Not even when a chat box appeared on the screen with a goading comment from _Zelda_ that read, ' _Are you still playing?'_

Hikaru searched, creating and discarding and following and abandoning patterns faster than he was consciously aware of. Before his eyes, black and white stones rearranged themselves, coming into existence one moment then disappearing the next, like lights being switched on and off, off and on.

When he finally found what he was looking for—the elusive array coming to life in a glowing constellation when it had been so thoroughly shrouded in shadow before—the tension keeping his body rigid trickled out of him, allowing him to slump into his chair with a sigh of relief.

A trap. That's what black's intent had been—to lure him into making the exact move he very nearly had. It would have cost black the cluster at the right, but in two moves black would have captured the entirety of white's territory along the left border and towards the center, bringing the game to _yose_ where Hikaru would have been incapable of repairing the damage and salvaging the game.

No wonder he'd been slow to see it. That was a _lot_ of stones to sacrifice, and only someone very confident in their own strength, not to mention their opponent's lack of foresight, would dare to try.

 _You underestimated the wrong player, buddy, and now you're gonna pay for it._ Determination flared in him, sharpening his focus, steeling his resolve, and with a rejuvenated glint in his eyes he returned to the game. He had found the trap, but evading it wasn't enough. Not if he wanted to prove himself. Not if he wanted to win. Which he did; more than anything.

He needed to counter _Zelda's_ counterstrike.

Several taut minutes later, Hikaru figured out a way to do it.

With a barely noticeable tremor in his fingers he made his move, a white stone appearing on the screen. In the chat box, the words ' _took you long enough'_ appeared, one taunting letter at a time. Hikaru debated with himself whether or not he should respond, but in the end decided it would only help. _Zelda_ might get suspicious if he didn't, and all of Hikaru's careful planning hinged on his opponent thinking him unaware.

He typed ' _SHUT UP! '_ and then closed the box.

 _Zelda_ played exactly where Hikaru knew he would. Hikaru responded by playing where he was expected to. Black followed him, attaching from the left. White defended. Black feigned a retreat.

Now was the time to set his plan into motion.

Spurred on by his pounding heart, Hikaru's hand drove forward to press the touchpad. A click, and a white stone appeared. Barely a second later the entire cluster of black stones to the right of his move disappeared, encased by a white border.

The first step was done. Now for step two.

Before he could blink, _Zelda_ made his move. Hikaru forced himself to count to ten before placing his stone several spaces away from their until-now contained battle. _Zelda_ took slightly longer to make his next move, as if thrown off by Hikaru's random play.

A mangled fusion of anticipation and nervousness roiled in his stomach as he waited, perched at the edge of his seat, palms sweaty and knee bouncing, for _Zelda_ to write it off as a fluke, or some flimsy attempt on Hikaru's part to attack the black cluster at the star. When his opponent's stone finally made its appearance, setting black's counterstrike in motion, Hikaru's hand shot out, settled the cursor over where it needed to be, and clicked.

His white stones connected in a misshaped ring, and a heartbeat later the sixteen black stones that decked the left side vanished. A vacant space appeared in their place, the brown of the board.

Hikaru hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until it was expelled from his lungs in an explosive rush and the burning pressure in his chest eased. With his sleeve, he wiped at the sweat that dotted his brow and trickled down the sides of his face as the entire situation sank in.

"…Holy crap."

He'd pulled it off. He'd _actually_ pulled it off.

Thirteen carefully executed and unbearably intense moves later, _Zelda_ resigned.

' _Good game…discussion/rematch later?'_ appeared in the chat box before the green circle beside _Zelda's_ username turned grey, indicating he'd logged off. On the screen, another box appeared, more decorative than the other, that declared _blondie55_ the winner of the game by 1-moku and congratulated him for having risen two _kyu_ levels.

Stunned, Hikaru stared unseeingly at the screen, his hands frozen above the keyboard and backside rooted to his seat. Eventually his rapid heartbeat began to subside, falling into a rhythm that was only slightly faster than normal. His vision sharpened to focus not a moment later, followed by some semblance of proper mental functioning.

"Holy crap," he breathed again, slumping into the chair with an exhaustion he hadn't felt since before he'd quit the soccer team. The last ten minutes of the game had been more grueling than the half-hour preceding it, and Hikaru felt utterly wrung out, as if someone had squeezed the energy from him and left him out to dry. "I can't believe I actually pulled it off. "

"I could," a voice said in his ear, and Hikaru felt his heart leap to his throat as he spun around. To his surprise, Harria stood directly behind him, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked from the screen to Hikaru—a slow, lopsided smile blooming across her face. Despite the teasing nudge she gave him and the condescending hair ruffle, she looked _proud_ , and Hikaru had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning like an idiot.

His eyes darted beside her to where Sai stood, and Hikaru felt himself fidget at the emotions reflected in his gaze. The ghost said nothing, but the way he looked at Hikaru—fond and impressed and _so damn proud_ —spoke volumes.

They didn't look surprised at all. It was as if they'd somehow _known_ that Hikaru would figure it out, and pull it off, and _win,_ even when Hikaru himself hadn't been so sure.

Something he refused to put a name to colored his cheeks and made his eyes burn, and Hikaru ducked his head, embarrassed by their steadfast confidence and silent praise as much as he was his own stupid reaction. He cleared his throat to dislodge the emotion that got stuck there, then again when it refused to budge.

"Good job, Hikaru," Sai said after a seemingly endless moment. "You did marvelously. I'm proud of you."

Hikaru lowered his head further, hoping his bangs concealed the blush that had only darkened at Sai's heartfelt words.

"Whatever," he grumbled, irritated with the both of them for being so overdramatic. "Stop making such a big deal out it. It's only a game, for heck's sake."

The only response he received was a chuckle, courtesy of Sai, and another hair ruffle from Harria.  
Hikaru, for all his posturing and dismissive words, could do little to hide the smile that was spreading across his face, pulled straight from his heart and wide enough to ache. He spun in the chair and busied with himself with logging out.

All the while, the same five words kept echoing in his mind.

He'd done it.

He'd won.

* * *

 

 

**[2]**

Later that night found Hikaru standing over the threshold of his door, hands frozen above his head as he stared bemusedly at the two occupants of his bedroom.

"What…are you two doing?" he asked despite himself, stepping through and continuing to rub bathwater from his hair with a towel.

"We're trying to decide where to take you for your birthday," Harria answered without looking at him. Sai gave a murmur of agreement, equally distracted.

"By…playing _thumb wars_?" he asked incredulously, wrapping the towel around his neck before snagging a random volume of _Hajime No Ippo_ from his bookshelf. He then flung himself onto the bed, bouncing once, and proceeded to watch their epic battle of thumbs.

"Why not?" Harria said, twisting her arm at an angle that shouldn't have been possible. More surprising was that Sai responded without difficulty, his own arm bending with inhuman flexibility. Hikaru's limbs ached just looking at the two. "We started with _janken_ first, but strangely kept choosing the same signs.  _Gomoku_ resulted in ties," which would explain the goban, "and Sai cheats in _dorenishiyookana_ —"

"I do no such thing!"

"—so this was the next best option." Seemingly in afterthought she added, "Sai's fingers are surprisingly dexterous. We've been at this for five minutes n— _ah-ah-ah, wait! Damn, so close."_

Hikaru anticipated an impending headache and rubbed his temples to stave it off. It boggled the mind that he, the youngest in the room, had to constantly be the mature one.

Sighing, Hikaru fell to his back and spread open the manga, determined to ignore his resident ghost and stalker in favor of losing himself to the fictional world of professional boxing. It wasn't difficult; he had five months of experience in ignoring the two, who tended to be ridiculous together, always egging the other on to new heights of insanity.

At this point ignoring them had become as instinctive as breathing. And just as essential for his health.

Hikaru was halfway into the manga when he realized that the room had quieted. He turned his head to find Harria and Sai leaning against one another and talking so quietly he couldn't make out what they were saying, their thumb war apparently forgotten. For a moment Hikaru found himself wondering who had won, then chastised himself for even caring. He continued to watch the two, taking in their aligned arms, their clasped hands, the air of contentment that hovered over them, and looked away with a shake of his head.

He'd never understand their relationship. And for the sake of his sanity, wasn't sure he even wanted to.

At times they seemed almost like siblings, always teasing one another and engaging in ridiculous banter. And then other times—times like now—they'd do something that Hikaru, despite not having any himself, _knew_ other siblings wouldn't do. No brother and sister he knew frequently hugged, or kissed each other's foreheads, or held hands.

Without his permission Hikaru's eyes slid sideways to take them in again. They were in the same position, only now Sai was holding up Harria's hand, his fingers tracing some indiscernible pattern into her palm. It was an intimate gesture, yet somehow not. Logically, Hikaru knew such touches were usually reserved for couples, yet he couldn't convince himself that's what it was. It might've just been his mind balking at the idea of his friends—one an ancient ghost, the other perfectly alive for all that she was abnormal—having _feelings_ for each other. But no, that wasn't right either.

It just wasn't… lovey-dovey-ish. Even now, with Sai entwining their fingers and Harria snuggling into his side, Hikaru knew with utmost certainty it wasn't that. It was something _else,_ something platonic and innocent when others might interpret it to be romantic and lewd.

Hikaru wasn't stupid. For some strange reason Harria seemed to be the only person Sai could physically touch, and for all that Sai was a ghost, he'd still been _human_ once-upon-a-time. He probably still craved the same things he did when he was alive. Rubbing his thumb against the textured page of his manga, Hikaru found himself wondering what it must be like not being able to touch or feel _anything._ The thought alone made him shudder with discomfort.

It made sense that Sai would be so tactile with Harria; she was the only one he could be tactile _with_. That Harria was just as generous with her touches was slightly weirder, but then, she'd been a pretty touchy-feely person from the start—always poking Hikaru, and flicking his ears, and ruffling his hair, and ambushing him with side-hugs. She wasn't quite as affectionate with him as she was with Sai, but that probably had more to do with how differently they responded to it. Where Sai would bask, Hikaru would wriggle and complain.

After several more minutes of pondering their strange relationship, Hikaru decided enough was enough—he was too young to be contemplating such things, for heck's sake—and sat up, tossing his book to the edge of the bed where it teetered precariously, but didn't fall.

"Oi!" he said loudly, swinging his legs to the floor. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Sharks," Harria replied at once.

"And the moon!" Sai added.

Hikaru looked blankly between the two of them. "How do those two things even—no, you know what? I don't want to know." When it came to Harria and Sai, sometimes ignorance really was the best option. "Have you guys decided where we should go for my birthday?"

The two shared a glance. Sai was the first to speak. "Well, no, not really. The game ended in another draw so we decided to figure it out later."

Hikaru raised his eyes to the ceiling and asked whomever might be listening what horrible atrocities he could have possibly committed in a past life to warrant _this_. The only answer he received was mocking silence, and with a frustrated sigh, he lowered his gaze.

"You could have just asked me," he grumbled. Then, running a hand through his slightly damp hair, asked, "Well? What have you two come up with?"

"But if we tell you then it wouldn't be a surprise!"

"I hate surprises," Hikaru pointed out to the ghost, "and you wouldn't want me to be miserable on my own birthday, would you?"

"But…no, I suppose not," Sai said unsurely, glancing at Harria, who in turn offered him an unhelpful shrug. Sai sighed and tapped his fan against his thigh.

"Well, if you're sure, Hikaru..."

At Hikaru's impatient look the ghost huffed. His indignation lasted all of two seconds, and then he was all eager bouncing and excited smiles. "The aquarium!

You said yourself that you haven't been in years, and I know you love fish—you kept your childhood dolphin toy, after all. What was his name again? 'Ruka-sama?"

"Sai!" Hikaru hissed, feeling heat rise to his face at the mention of his old toy. His eyes darted in Harria's direction, then scampered away when he noticed the quiver of her cheek for what it was. She was laughing at him!

"But as I was saying," Sai continued obliviously, "Harria brought me a brochure from the Sunshine Aquarium, and guess what, Hikaru? They're hosting a special exhibition on your birthday in celebration of its thirtieth year. Isn't that _exciting_?"

It was hard holding a grudge against someone whose eyes _sparkled_ at you. Especially when they didn't know they'd done something wrong in the first place.

Before Sai could blind him with his starry-eyes, Hikaru turned his face away with a grunt. "Yeah, Sai. That does sound kinda cool."

It actually didn't, but there was no way he was telling the ghost that. Sai would get all sad-eyed and slump-shouldered and Hikaru would just end up feeling like the biggest jerk in Japan.

"And what did you come up with?" Hikaru asked, glancing at Harria and immediately wishing he hadn't. She had that _knowing_ look in her eyes that Hikaru had really come to hate. That look meant she knew exactly what he was thinking of doing, and definitely approved.

Hikaru hated that she could read him so well despite having known him for only a few short months. He hated feeling like he was so transparent, so obvious, that she could pluck the thoughts right from his head as easily as if they were stuffed animals in a claw machine. But more than that, he hated that her approval made him _feel_ something—something tingling and warm in the pit of his stomach—suggesting that her opinion of him might actually matter when very few people's ever had _._

He was experiencing that feeling a lot lately, and Hikaru didn't like it at all. Didn't like how acquiescent it made him, just to earn the looks that would fill him with that same sensation of warmth. He was used to not caring—no matter what he did, his mother and grandparents would always love him, always be proud of him. Likewise, no matter what he did, his father would never notice enough to care.

He didn't want to acknowledge that there were now two people whose opinions of him actually meant something. Didn't want to think about how vulnerable it made him feel.

"I suppose the aquarium's as good as anything," Hikaru said eventually, as much to end Sai's hopeful glances as to distract himself from those uncomfortable thoughts.

He chanced a glance at Harria, and had to look away when the warmth of her gaze threatened to set his face aflame. He clenched his hands into fists and scowled.

No, Hikaru didn't like it at all.

* * *

 

 

**[3]**

"Oh, that was so much fun!" Sai gushed as they stepped out of the dome-shaped building of the aquarium and into the frigid February air.

The sky, as blue as a robin's egg, was entirely devoid of clouds, and Hikaru had to squint against the unforgiving glare of the sun until his eyes adjusted to the sudden onslaught. He zipped his coat up to his neck, inwardly berating himself for forgetting his scarf, and followed the overexcited ghost down a series of stone steps that rolled out into a mock-brick trail.

He was only mildly surprised when Harria draped his forgotten scarf over his shoulders a moment later.

"I snagged it before we left," was her explanation to his baffled stare. Which, while probably true, didn't explain how she always managed to have on her the things he left behind, or how she seemed to just _know_ when he needed them most, never giving them to him until that time.

Or even, Hikaru thought with a suspicious look at her bag, how he never seemed to notice her having said items until she wanted him to. The scarf, at least, he should have noticed—it was bright yellow and long enough that the fringe swept the floor when he didn't double-loop it around his neck. _Surely_ he should have at least glimpsed it during the many times she'd ruffled through her bag.

Which, speaking of, was suspicious as heck. Hikaru had only ever seen Harria carry the one bag, and it somehow seemed to be able to carry _everything_ despite its size. He'd once witnessed her pull a laptop out of it, which wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't _also_ pulled from it a pair of shoes, a foldable board, a bottle of water, and a book. Never mind what else she had in there. It just didn't make sense, and Hikaru's fingers itched with the desire to get his hands on it.

Which he somehow never managed to, despite his best efforts.

There was definitely something fishy about that bag of hers, and Hikaru swore to himself that he'd figure out what it was.

"So," Harria chirped when they caught up to Sai, who was looking around them with open curiosity. Not surprising; Hikaru had never taken Sai to this part of the city and there were a lot of things he'd probably never seen before—like the colossal koi-statue, fashioned from stained glass, that he was currently ogling. Hikaru made a mental note to revisit during his next break to give them more time to browse. Sai would surely like that, and Harria would definitely approve.

Hikaru caught the thought just as it flittered through his mind and gave himself a mental smack for thinking stupid things. Again.

"Where would you like to go next, Hikaru?" Harria asked. The two of them were walking at a leisured pace, giving Sai the time he needed to gawk at the sights.

They often did that—indulging his need to explore. Harria was particularly keen on it, and Hikaru had long since given up on trying to dig his heels in. Well, for the most part.

As much as Hikaru _loathed_ having to admit it, he had a hard time saying no to her. It probably had something to do with her being a girl.

(He refused to think about how he told Akari no all the time, and rarely did he feel guilty about it.)

And then there was Sai, who, while annoying, was stupidly easy to please. The ghost seemed to want only three things in life: to play Go, to see new things, and to cuddle Harria. It took little to make him happy, and add to that his hangdog eyes which, when directed at Hikaru, made him feel like the meanest person in the world…really, life was just so much easier when he humored the guy.

"I'm kinda hungry," Hikaru said, determined not to think about how they practically had him wrapped around their fingers.

"There's a ramen place nearby that had really good reviews online. We can go there, unless you have something else in mind?"

"Something other than ramen?" Hikaru asked with a grin. "Never."

Harria grinned back, the corners of her eyes creasing at the corners, and Hikaru faltered in his steps, taken aback by the picture she made just then—black hair gleaming beneath the sunlight, eyes sparkling, skin set aglow. She cocked his head and said his name, and with a start he realized that he'd actually stopped to stare at her.

Face burning as brightly as the sun overhead, Hikaru ducked his head, mumbled something about being hungry, and picked up the pace, his eyes never straying from the ground.

He'd been doing things like that a lot lately—watching her, and thinking crazy things. And while he didn't exactly understand why, he did know that it needed to stop. It was weird, and awkward, and under no circumstances should one ever stare at their friends because they happened to be pre—not ugly.

 _You're being stupid,_ Hikaru told himself, kicking a pebble and watching it skid, skip, and stop. _There's nothing wrong with thinking she's…pretty. It doesn't mean anything. You acknowledge that Akari's kind of pretty, right? It's the same thing. You're making a big deal out of nothing, stupid._

A strong gust of wind suddenly swept past, rustling what few leaves remained on the trees. Some were torn off their branches and carried off overhead. Hikaru wrapped his scarf more securely around his neck and tucked his hands into his pockets. Beside him, Harria and Sai were discussing something or other—he made out the words _giant squid_ and _brains_ before he decided he didn't want to know and drew his thoughts inwards.

There was one insistent thought that kept prodding at the edges of his mind, determined to get in. Hikaru tried keeping it out, but the longer he ignored it the worse it became, intensifying to an almost ache. Halfway down the path Hikaru gave up and let it in.

 _If it's the same thing,_ a voice that sounded suspiciously like Sai whispered in the rear of his mind, _then shouldn't you react the same way to both? But you don't, do you? You_ can't.

 _Shut up,_ Hikaru mentally snapped back, imagining himself shoving the thought into a box, securing it in chains, and dropping it into a volcano. In his mind's eye the thought disintegrated in one great, fiery explosion. Hikaru thought himself successful until he heard Harria laugh, and his eyes snapped in her direction unwittingly.

Head tipped back, lips curled at the corners, teeth flashing, eyes bright. The first thought that entered Hikaru's head was _she's pretty,_ and with a dismayed jolt he realized getting rid of the one thought wouldn't be enough. Apparently, without him noticing, his brain had been infested. Who knew how many more of them were in there, waiting in the shadows for the opportune time to pop out?

 _Okay,_ Hikaru thought, hunching into himself. _Now I'm just being stupid. And creeping myself out. And seriously blowing this out of proportion. So she's not ugly; so what? It means squat._

"Hikaru? Why did you stop? Are you alright?" Sai's voice jarred him from his thoughts, and with a startled blink he looked up.

Harria and Sai were standing several feet ahead of him, watching him with identical expressions of concern, and probably wondering what the heck was wrong with him. Hikaru caught Harria's gaze, and for a split second his heartbeat spiked. He forced himself not to look away.

"Yeah," Hikaru muttered, unsure if he was telling the truth. He toed the ground with his sneaker twice, then pushed off into a jog. "Yeah, I'm fine," he repeated once he'd caught up.

They didn't look like they believed him, which didn't really surprise him. He wasn't sure he believed himself, either.

* * *

 

 

**[4]**

Sai was gazing worriedly at Hikaru, who'd become increasingly distracted since leaving the aquarium, when Harria paused in her steps and said, "Oh, look. There's a Go salon."

Sai's head whipped around so fast that had he been alive it probably would have cramped. He followed her gaze, which led to a nondescript building at the end of the street with wide windows and potted plants littered at the ground beside the door. At first glance it looked like any other shop until he noticed the sign in one window that read, _Go Salon - Second Floor._ His eyes drew up to a series of narrower windows, and only then did he notice the thin banner with the words _Takamura's Go Salon_ emblazoned at the center.

At once all other thoughts fell away, pushed to the side by the prospect of playing Go with different opponents. Opponents he could actually _see,_ unlike the people in the electronic box he often played against. Anticipation filled Sai's chest as he turned toward Hikaru, a plea for _just one game, please_ hovering at the tip of his tongue. But when he looked down, he noticed the faraway look in Hikaru's eyes, and the way his face was angled towards the ground, and the words crawled back down his throat as worry overtook him again.

Sai wasn't sure what was wrong. Hikaru had been fine at the aquarium, enjoying himself despite his initial reservations (as Sai knew he would). So whatever had caused the deterioration of his mood had come afterward. Watching his host stare at nothing, Sai wracked his brain for anything that might give him an inkling into what could have possibly caused it, but came up blank. For once, he was certain that it was nothing he had done. And while Hikaru and Harria had seemed deep in conversation at one point, he doubted that she was the cause—she was far too kind to purposefully upset him on such a momentous day, and far too perceptive to have done so unwittingly.

Which left Sai with neither clues nor any way of knowing how to fix it.

He spared one final longing look at the salon before he resolutely turned his back to it. _It's Hikaru's birthday,_ he reminded himself, ignoring the pang in his chest at a missed opportunity to experience another aspect of the modern Go world, and maybe play a game or two in the process. However much Sai wanted it, there were more important things to be dealt with at the moment, such as Hikaru's obvious unhappiness. Sai needed to figure out a way to _lift_ his spirits, not dampen them further by wheedling him into doing something he wouldn't want to.

Go would always be there, but a boy only turned twelve once.

"Maybe we can visit it some other time," Sai said with forced neutrality, inwardly praying that they would. "We should let Hikaru decide where he'd like to go to next."

Sai glanced up at the sky, which had been slowly darkening from some time now, taking on a wine-colored tint that indicated dusk would be soon to come. "We still have some time before Hikaru's mother wants him home. Maybe the arcade? I think it's around here; that signpost over there looks familiar. Hmm. Then again, I don't remember seeing that building before…or that one, either, for that matter…"

He trailed off when he realized his companions were staring him—Harria with amusement, and Hikaru with a look of utter shock.

"Did you just say _no_ to something _Go-related_?" Hikaru demanded, looking at Sai like he'd grown two heads. And possibly a third eye, too. After a moment of staring he pinched the skin of his hand and winced. "Okay, not a dream then. Maybe you've been body-swapped by aliens?" He paused. "Wait. That can't be it, you don't even have a body for them to swap. So maybe I've stepped into an alternate dimension, one where Sai _isn't_ Go-obsessed and Harria is…I don't know, normal or something."

"I resent that," Harria said, not very resentfully.

Sai crossed his arms and leveled Hikaru with a look. "Well, it _is_ your birthday, Hikaru. I'm hardly going to make you go somewhere you don't want to go."

"But it's _Go_!"

"I'm not _that_ obsessed!"

Hikaru gaped at him, then started to laugh.

"You're being mean, Hikaru!"

"Sorry," Hikaru gasped, doubling over and gripping his knees for support. Sai noted that he didn't sound very sorry at all. "But I can't believe you actually said that. That's like saying you're only a _little_ old, or, or Harria's only a _little_ weird."

"Hey," Harria protested mildly, which set Hikaru off all over again. Sai watched him, amusement overshadowing his prior indignation. It was difficult to stay annoyed when Hikaru laughed like that. For all that he was twelve, the boy was so serious sometimes, and Sai couldn't bring himself to begrudge him his delight, even if it _was_ at his expense.

"If you're quite finished?" he asked with a touch of moodiness that was mostly feigned.

"Yeah," Hikaru said once his hilarity had died down. He straightened and wiped an arm over his eyes. "Yeah. Uh, what were we talking about again?"

"Where you wanted to go next," Sai supplied.

"Oh, right. Uh…" Hikaru lifted a hand to rub the back of his head, and glanced at the building Harria had pointed out. He pursed his lips, seemingly mulling something over, then shrugged. "We can go inside. I don't mind."

It was Sai's turn to gape. "B-but, Hikaru!"

The corners of Hikaru's mouth twitched. "Yes, Sai?"

"It's a Go salon! You've never wanted to go to one before! And—and it's your birthday!"

"Really? I haven't noticed."

"Hikaru!"

The boy rolled his eyes. "I said it's fine, didn't I? If didn't want to go then I wouldn't have said I did. Quit making such a big deal out of it, Sai."

"But—" Sai started, only to be distracted by a warm hand wrapping around his fingers. He glanced first at his hand, then at the person attached to it. "Harria?"

"Come along, Sai," she said, towing him towards the entrance of the building. Several bystanders looked at her askance, no doubt finding the sight of her tugging thin air incredibly strange, but they were ignored. "If Hikaru says it's fine, then it's fine. Now let's go before he changes his mind."

Sai hesitated, then let himself be led. As much as he desperately wanted to go, he couldn't quite trust Hikaru's motivations. Any other day Sai would have agreed, no questions asked. But it wasn't any other day—it was Hikaru's _birthday_ , and some things were simply more important than his desire to play.  
Hikaru's happiness, for one thing.

"It's fine," Harria murmured when Sai was about to issue another protest. "If you make a fuss he'll just get upset again."

"I suppose you're right," Sai said, still somewhat unsure.

"Of course I am," was her immediate reply.

The bell above the door chimed shrilly as they entered the shop. It must have smelled pleasant, because he heard Harria inhale deeply and give a hum of approval. The three of them walked some ways into the large room, stopping when Harria did. She nodded a greeting at the woman manning the counter and pointed to the ceiling. The woman nodded in turn, and gestured towards the left.

"The salon, huh? It's back that way. Just go through the door and up the stairs; you can't miss it."

"Thank you," Harria said, moving in the indicated direction.

The woman was right; behind ceiling-high shelves stocked with various glassware, tableware, and kitchen appliances—most of which Sai couldn't hope to name or figure out a purpose for—was a door leading to a stairwell. Above it hung a sign similar to the one at the window. Harria was the first to step through and climb, and the two remaining were quick to follow.

Despite himself, the excitement he'd abandoned was quick to make its return, increasing in intensity with his every step. By the time they reached the second floor landing and crossed to an open doorway, Sai was all but vibrating with it.  
His companions, who were more than capable of taking care of themselves for a few minutes, were left behind in favor of exploring the new environment. The salon was sizeable, he supposed, with a counter at the front and a row of large tables on opposite sides of the room, all with ample space between them for easy maneuvering.

There were a scattering of people there, all elderly and situated around foldable boards in varying stages of progress. It was quiet but for the _clank_ of stones, the rustle of go-ke, and the occasional cough and murmur. Sai took it all in with wide eyes, feeling that same odd fusion of yearning and delight swelling inside him, neither warring for dominance over the other. They existed in a peculiar state of equilibrium that he couldn't even begin to put into words despite the hundreds of years he's had to try—it simply _was_. As unexplainable as his own existence, but no less real.

He continued to watch, ignoring the familiar phantom itch at his fingertips and the insistent tugging of his heart until he couldn't any longer and he turned away. He sought out Harria first, suddenly needing the anchoring reassurance of her touch more than he'd ever needed anything, it felt like. He looked behind him, and saw something that made him go still.

Harria was staring at a painting on the wall with a most curious expression. He couldn't make out the picture—the sunlight streaming through the eastern window cast a bright film over the glass from his angle, obscuring it—but whatever it was had prompted the woman to look…wistful, almost. He could see the corners of her mouth curled in a smile that was almost sad, but not quite, and somehow fragile, yet not.

Despite the pang of concern he felt for Harria—who rarely allowed herself to look so vulnerable, especially in front of others—it wasn't her who captured his attention, and startled the breath from his lungs, and made his heart stutter and sink.

It was _Hikaru_. Or more accurately, it was the way Hikaru was _looking_ at her. As Sai watched, Hikaru's lips parted slightly, and he leaned forward as if entranced. Sai doubted he was consciously aware of moving. A moment passed, and then he seemed to come to with a blink, angling his face towards the ground and hiding whatever expression he might have been wearing behind the curtain of his bangs.

Bangs which did nothing to conceal the red tint of his ears, or the hunching of his shoulders, or the clenching of his fists at his sides.

Bangs which could not hide the way he dared another glance at her before visibly forcing himself to look, and then walk, away.

 _Oh,_ Sai thought, watching Hikaru's retreating back with shadowed eyes. Suddenly the boy's peculiar behavior and fluctuating moods made an uncomfortable amount of sense.

Something akin to a lump lodged itself in Sai's nonexistent throat, refusing to budge regardless how heavily he swallowed. _Oh, Hikaru,_ he sighed inwardly, redirecting his gaze elsewhere. He ambled over to the game being played at the nearest table, and for the first time he could remember, saw nothing but black and white stones set on a block of wood.

It was to be expected, he thought, tracing the ribs of his fan and staring unseeingly at the game unfolding in front of him. The two spent so much time together, and to Hikaru, Harria was just a pretty girl only a few years older than him. More, she was _different,_ entirely unlike any other person in the world. He didn't know _why_ she was different, only that she was.

Of course he'd become attracted to her.

Of course he'd fall in love.

Sai slapped his fan into his hand and closed his eyes, feeling the weight of his age bearing down on him. It would have been fine if Harria were just that; a pretty, young girl whose eccentricities set her apart from the others; normal, if only in the ways that would matter to a human boy.

But she _wasn't_ , and that was the crux of the problem. Harria was the furthest thing from normal, and Hikaru, for all the abnormalities he surrounded himself with, very much was.

With another sigh, Sai prayed that Hikaru's feelings would never develop further than a fleeting, adolescent crush.

  
For both their sakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the event that it doesn't come up in later chapters, the user _Zelda_ is a character named Waya Yoshitaka (for those who need the reminder). He'll be making his appearance later on.
> 
> TERMS:  
>  _Goban_ \- Go Board  
>  _Go-ke_ \- bowl that holds Go stones  
>  _Kifu_ \- game record  
>  _Tengen_ \- center star on board  
>  _Yose_ \- end game  
>  _Kyu_ \- unofficial player ranking preceding Dan, strictly used online/in Go salons  
>  _Janken_ \- Japanese version of rock-paper-scissors  
>  _Gomoku_ \- a more strategic version of tic-tac-toe, played on paper or goban  
>  _Dorenishiyookana_ \- Japanese equivalent of eenie-meenie


End file.
